Contents

One time my cousin Walter got this cat stuck in his ass. True story. He bought it at our local mall, so the whole fiasco wound up on the news. It was embarrassing for my relatives and all. But the next week, he did it again. Different cat, same results, complete with another trip to the emergency room. So I run into him a week later at the mall and he was buying another cat! And I said to him, "Jesus, Walt, what are you doing? You know you're just gonna get this cat stuck in your ass, too. Why don't you knock it off?" And he said to me, "Brodie, how the hell else am I supposed to get the gerbil out?" My cousin was a weird guy.

There's not a year that goes by, not a year, that I don't read about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent--I don't care which one--but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator!

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned for Sega.

You're gonna listen to me? To something I said? Jesus, man, haven't I made it abundantly clear during the tenure of our friendship that I don't know shit? I mean, half the time I'm just talking out of my ass, or sticking my hand in it.

You fuckers think just because a guy reads comics he can't start some shit?

Waste not, want not.

I love the smell of commerce in the morning.

[speaking of T.S. and Brandi's love] You're both retarded for each other.

Why don't they ever bring back or remake good shows, like "BJ and the Bear"? Now there's a concept I can't get enough of, a man and his monkey.

[about the break-up letter from Rene] Yeah, and she also said I had no dick. Which precedes the financial question, proving once more what women really look for.

Say, would you like a chocolate covered pretzel? They're a little melty, but damn, are they exquisite.

Women, always leaving you after you've had the crap kicked out of you.

[To Silent Bob] Where do you get those wonderful toys? (reference to Batman 1989)

[To William, still staring at the 3D art] I'll tell you what you need is a fatty-boom-batty blunt, and I guarantee you'll be seeing a sailboat, an ocean, and maybe even some of those big-titted mermaids doing some of that lesbian shit. Look at me, look at me, you sloppy bitch!

Silent Bob here's an electrical genius. He won the science fair in the eighth grade by turning his mom's vibrator into a CD player using some chicken wire and shit. The motherfucker's like MacGyver--no, the motherfucker's better than MacGyver.

[Explaining the details of Operation Drive By to Silent Bob] Phase One: First, you take a run at La Fours with a sock full of quarters. I'd do it, but I pulled my back out humping your mom last night. Nooch. Okay, you clock him on his headpiece and knock his ass out cold. That's when Phase Two kicks in. I attack the structure Wolvie Berserk style, and knock out the fucking pin and - bickety bam! - the motherfucker is rubble. Hence, no game show.

Dude, you the mad chick magnet.

[Explaining the details of Operation Dark Knight to Silent Bob] Okay, Lunch Box, let's try this again. We tie you to the roof and you jump off and sail like a Spitfire passing right over the arch nemesis La Fours. You then swing up to the stage and knock out the pin. And when that's gone, the stage is trashed and we go smoke a bowl. You got it? Now get your fat ass up there! And dude, don't forget your helmet. Snoogans.

That bastard's faster than Walt Flanagan's Dog!

[referencing Silent Bob] Human brown-eye here is a walking calamity. We're gonna have to take a pass on the stage-trashing business, otherwise he's liable to kill himself. Sorry, bro.

[During gameshow] Do it Doug!

[Repeated line to Silent Bob as he attempts to do the Force] Knock it off!

Brodie, I have always taken you with a grain of salt. On your birthday when you asked me to do a striptease to the theme from Mighty Mouse, I said "Okay." When we were at that hotel prom night and you asked me to sleep underneath the bed in case your mother burst in, I did it. And even when we were at my grandmother's funeral and you told most of my relatives that you could see her nipples through her burial dress, I let it slide. [grabs Brodie by the ear] But if you think that I'm going to suffer any more of your shit with a smile now that we're broken up, you're in for some serious fucking disappointment.

T.S.: That might have something to do with the fact that I've been defeated

[Brodie picks up a controller and continues a paused video game]

Rene: What the hell are you doing?

Brodie: Finishing my game.

Rene: No, you promised me breakfast.

Brodie: Breakfast? Breakfast, shmreakfast. Look at the score, for Christ's sake. It's only in the middle of the second period and I'm running 12 to 2. Breakfasts come and go Rene, but Hartford, "the Whale," they only beat Vancouver once, maybe twice in a lifetime.

T.S.: What? Do you know that kid or something?

Brodie: I hope his pants get caught and a bloodbath ensues!

T.S.: What is with you today?

Brodie: Don't get me wrong, I don't wish the kid harm, but his mother should suffer that horrific ordeal so she'll learn how to manage her child!

T.S.: Harsh lesson, don't you think?

Brodie: Man, there's not a year that goes by--not a year--that I don't read about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid that could've easily been avoided had some parent--I don't care which one--but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator!

Brodie: That kid is back on the escalator again!

T.S.: Leave it alone!

Brodie: What?!

Brodie: You have my Punisher War Journal #6, my copy of "Fletch" and the remote control to my TV. Now, I know it's going to be hard to give this stuff up because of it's sentimental attachment--

Rene: Sentimental attachment? Look, if I have any of that crap it's because you brought it over to my house and left it there.

Brodie: Okay, then let's talk about coming up with a schedule for visitation rights.

Rene: For what?

Brodie: For the mall. I figure you can take the odd days, I'll take the even days and weekends. When there's any special feature like a sidewalk sale--

Rene: Brodie, Brodie--

Brodie: --or a boat show--

Rene: Brodie! I've always taken you with a grain of salt. On your birthday, when you asked me to do a striptease to the theme of "Mighty Mouse", I said "Okay". When we were at that hotel prom night and you asked me to sleep under the bed in case your mother burst in, I did it. And even when we were at my grandmother's funeral when you told most of my relatives that you could see her nipples through her burial dress, I let it slide. [Grabs Brodie by the ear] But if you think I'm gonna suffer any more of your shit with a smile now that we're broken up, you're in for some serious fucking disappointment.

Brodie: I took you shopping all the time!

Rene: You took me where you went shopping, you jerk! You think I care what store in that shit pit dirt mall has the latest Godzilla bootlegs? Do you call eating pizza in the same dive pizzeria every night eating out? Do I give a shit what two comic labels are crossing over characters, selling two editions of the book in varied-ink chromium covers?! I'm a girl, damn it! I wanna do girly things!

Willam: Brenda?

Rene: Dick!

Brodie: My grandmother always said "Why buy the cow, when you can get the sex for free?"

T.S.: She did?

Brodie: All the time. Of course, she became a lesbian on her 60th birthday, but that's besides the point.

[Brodie is trying to get into the comic book store]

Brodie: Hey, what's going on in there?

Steve-Dave Pulasti: I was warned about you. Take it easy before I have you removed from the mall.

Brodie: Warned?! What the fuck are you talking about?!

Walt "Fanboy" Grover: Tell him, Steve-Dave.

Brodie: Fuck you, Fan Boy!

T.S.: Can you two testosterone-seething, he-man, comic book fans finish up with this display of tough guy back-and-forth? I've got some questions that need answering.

[in elevator]

Brodie: What the hell gives at the cover boy?

Rene: None of your damn business, [slaps Brodie with shopping bag] but he'd probably kick your ass if he knew what you just pulled.

Brodie: Are you insane?! The guy looks like a date rapist! Is that my jacket?

Rene: Brodie, start the elevator.

Brodie: No! Not until you tell me what the deal is with you and the Sperminator out there! How long has this been going on!?

Rene: Since I finally mustered the good sense to send you packing! He's a much more suitable companion any day.

Brodie: Are you nuts?! The guy's pure testosterone! He's a walking hard-on just looking for a hole!

Rene: I'm in need of testosterone after babysitting you and your comic book collection! I forgot what real men were like!

Brodie: Here you are now, a legend in the field, probably had a slew of woman since her. Am I right?

Stan Lee: Oh, lots of women. Jagger and me, we had a running contest to see who had the most. As a matter of fact, last time I looked I was way ahead.

Brodie: Damn, that's hot!

Stan Lee: They look happy, don't they?

Brodie: What, the bras?

Kid 1: Wow! It's a schooner!

Willam: Ha ha! You dumb bastard. It's not a schooner, its a sailboat.

Kid 2: A schooner is a sailboat, stupid head.

Willam: [losing patience] You know what?! There is no Easter Bunny! Over there, that's just a guy in a suit!

Brodie: The usual vault rules apply: Touch not, lest ye be touched.

T.S.: You're such an anal retentive bastard.

Brodie: Hey, I tried to teach you how to handle comics in the sixth grade, but, oh, no. You wanted to play little league instead.

[T.S. notices something on a table]

T.S.: What's that?

Brodie: Like it? I framed it before you got here.

T.S.: Oh my God, Rene dumped you!

Brodie: Hell hath no fear like a woman scorned for Sega.

T.S.: Wow, look at this long list of complaints; you have no direction, no college ambition, no job prospect--

Brodie: Yeah, and it also says I have no dick, but you'll see that follows the financial question proving once more what women really look for.

T.S.: Whoa, she calls you callow in here.

Brodie: You say that like it's bad.

T.S.: Well, it means frightened and weak-willed.

Brodie: Really? Shit, that was the only part of the letter that I thought was complimentary.

T.S.: Yeah. Well, you're lucky. Unlike you, I didn't even get a letter full of obscure adjectives.

Brodie: What are you telling me here?

T.S.: I too now am in the framing business.

Brodie: Holy shit, Brandi dumped you. Wait a sec. Aren't you two supposed to be going to Florida?

T.S.: Yeah, should've left this morning, it gets worse; I was going to propose to her.

Brodie: Where?

T.S.: Universal tour.

Brodie: You're kidding! What part?

T.S.: When Jaws popped out of the water.

Brodie: That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard.

T.S.: Too bad I'm not trying to marry you.

Brodie: Let me ask you something, did you ever fart in front of her?

T.S.: [scoffs] Why do you ask?

Brodie: I never farted in front of Rene. Not once. Last week, I let one slip and today she dumps me.

Tricia Jones: So I heard that you were going to propose to Brandi Svenning at some theme park. When are men going to learn that women want romance, not Mr. Toad's Wild Ride?

Brodie: Hey, be fair now. Everyone wants Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

Brodie: Look, if I have any kind of glow it's because I just got laid. I would look the same had I banged anyone in that elevator... present company excluded.

T.S.: Deny it all you want. I think that you're too proud to admit that you want her back.

Brodie: I suddenly want something very bad to happen to you.

T.S.: What is your problem? I don't understand

[Gwen suddenly approaches T.S. from behind and accidentally elbows her in her chest and she falls to the ground in pain]

T.S.: Gwen! I'm sorry, I didn't even know it was you.--

Gwen: You fucker!

[In retaliation, Gwen hits T.S. in the groin with her shopping bag and he goes down]

Brodie: See, that's what you get for fucking with me. [Gwen gets up and Brodie kicks T.S. while he's still down] Sorry , Gwen. He didn't mean to hit you.

Gwen: He's got a funny way of showing it by elbowing me in my freaking tit. [she also kicks T.S.] Why the hell are you glowing?

Brodie: I'm not glowing. All right!

[Silent Bob is trying to levitate a cigarette]

T.S.: What's he doing?

Jay: Shit Head here watched Empire and Jedi last week and ever since then, he's been trying to do the Jedi mind trick. The crazy fuck thinks he can levitate shit with his thoughts.

[slaps the cigarette out of Silent Bob's hand]

Jay: Knock it off.

Brodie: The Force is strong with this one.

Jay: Dude, don't encourage him.

Brodie: So, I was just telling T.S. here that we needed to find Jay and Silent Bob. If there's anybody who can help us, it's the two guys who have even less to do than us.

Jay: What is this shit? Everybody's looking for us today. We're ducking Tricia 'cause she wants to talk to Obi-Wan here about her video setup.

Brodie: Why him?

Jay: Silent Bob's an electrical genius. He won the science fair in the eighth grade by turning his mom's vibrator into a CD player using some chicken wire and shit. Motherfucker's like McGyver--no, motherfucker's better than McGyver! [he knocks the cigarette from Silent Bob's hand again] Knock it off!

T.S.: I got to hit the bathroom.

Brodie: Please. Don't say "hit"!

T.S.: But they're engaged.

Brodie: Doesn't matter, it can't happen.

T.S.: Why not? It's bound to come up.

Brodie: It's impossible. Lois could never have Superman's baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm? I guarantee you he blows a load like a shotgun right through her back. What about her womb? Do you think it's strong enough to carry his child?

T.S.: Sure, why not?

Brodie: He's an alien, for Christ's sake. His Kryptonian biological makeup is enhanced by Earth's yellow sun. If Lois gets a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a kryptonite condom. But that would kill him.

T.S.: How is it that I go from the verge of hot Floridian sex with Brandi to Man of Steel coital debates with you in the food court?

Brodie: Cookie stand isn't part of the food court.

T.S.: Of course it is.

Brodie: The food court is downstairs. The cookie stand is upstairs. It not like we're talking quantum physics here.

T.S.: The cookie stands counts as an eatery, the eatery's a part of the food court.

Brodie: Bullshit. Eateries that operate within the designated square downstairs count as food court. Anything outside of said designated square counts as an autonomous unit for mid-mall snacking. Now, if you're going to wax intellectual about the subject-- [notices Rene at the clothing store] Holy shit!

Brodie: (regarding Mr. Svenning) After all he's done to you, you should still kinda stick it to him.

T.S.: How do you propose I do that?

Brodie: You stinkpalm him.

T.S.: What's a stinkpalm?

Brodie: You take your hand and stick it in your ass like this. You been walkin' all day and you're nervous, so no doubt you'll be sweaty as hell.

T.S.: You should see yourself right now, a grown man with his hand down his pants.

Brodie: Yeah I probably look like my old man. So you shake hands with the guy, "Hello Mr. Svenning how have you been?"

T.S.: What's the point?

Brodie: You know how long it takes for that smell to come off? Scrub all you want, it'll stick around for at least two days. How does he explain it to his colleagues and family? They'll think he doesn't know how to wipe his ass properly.

T.S.: Meanwhile you yourself are left with a hand that smells like shit.

Shannon: Smart-ass ex-boyfriend! I've got two things to tell you. One: I don't like you. I see you every week in this mall. I don't like you shiftless layabouts. You're one of those loser fucking mallrat kids. You don't come down here to do work or shop. You hang out all day. You act like you fucking live here. Well, I have no respect for people with no shopping agenda.

Brodie: Is this what's known as motivated salesmanship?

[Shannon punches Brodie]

Shannon: Rene told me to leave you alone, but she's fucking clueless. You see, Bruce, I like to pick up girls on the rebound from a disappointing relationship. They're more vulnerable and in much more need of solace and they're fairly open to suggestion. And, I use that to fuck them some place very uncomfortable.

Brodie: What, like the back of a Volkswagen?

Shannon: No. Like someplace girls dread.

[Brodie tries to take a poke at Shannon, but Shannon gives him another beat-down]

Brodie: You're giving up? You? You used to be stand-up guy, what happened to him? The guy who punched Amanda's gross-out mother after she called him "low class".

T.S.: That wasn't me. It was you.

Brodie: Oh, yeah.

T.S.: And it wasn't her mother, it was her grandmother.

Brodie: No wonder the bitch went down so fast.

T.S.: Jesus, how much did you smoke?

Jay: All it took was a phat, chronic blunt. These guys were lightweights.

T.S.: How much do I owe you?

Jay: My treat. As long as you promise that the next time you pop your old lady, you make her call you "Jay." Snootchie Bootchies.

T.S.: Let's hope there is a next time.

Gwen: [about when she had sex with Rick Derris] It was a costume party TS, no one could tell it was me. Besides, who else but you remembers shit like that?

Brodie: [walking up wearing panties over his jeans] I would've been a sexy chick!

T.S.: Brodie, do you remember that costume party?

Brodie: [to Gwen] Might that have be the one where you banged Rick Derris on the pool table?

T.S.: Nobody remembers shit like that?

Gwen: How is that you recall the most trivial events?

Brodie: I'll never forget it! How many chances do you get to see Smokey fuck the Bandit?

Gwen: Didn't I look just like Burt Reynolds?

T.S., Brodie: [look at each other] Except for the mustache.

Jay: You're fucking kidding me! The Easter bunny did this?!

Brodie: All I said was that the Easter bunny at the Menlo Park mall was more convincing and he just jumped the railing and knocked me down.

Jay: He's fucking dead!

Brodie: Oh, let it go, he's under a lot of pressure.

[T.S. and Gwen approach them]

T.S.: What the hell happened?

Jay: The guy in the Easter bunny suit kicked his ass.

Brodie: I had it coming.

Jay: Fuck all that shit. Come on, Silent Bob.

[Jay and Silent Bob leave]

T.S.: What really happened?

Brodie: The proprietor of Fashionable Male beat a rain check into my stomach.

Gwen: Shannon Hamilton?

T.S.: You know that guy?

Gwen: I went out with him once after we dated. He tried to screw me some place very uncomfortable.

T.S.: What? Like the back of a Volkswagen?

Brodie: Sounds like his M.O.

T.S.: Haven't you ever heard the phrase "The customer is always right?"

Brodie: You know about this game show they got going on here? We need you guys to somehow ensure that it doesn't happen.

Jay: Is that it? We were gonna do that anyway.

Brodie: Really? Why?

Jay: What else are we gonna do? Silent Bob stole the schematics from some foolish carpenter and found a weakness just like the fucking Death Star. You knock this crossbeam out and fucking bickety-bam! The whole stage comes crashing down.

Brodie: Well we were thinking of something simple, but, hey, if you want to destroy the stage, we're all for that.

Brandi: Second suitor: if we were making whoopee--

Brodie: What's whoopee?

Brandi: Um, you know, if we were being intimate--

Brodie: What? Like fucking?

Brandi: Second suitor, would you ever make whoopee in public?

Brodie: Already did once today. [points to Rene and smirks] But my cousin Walter jerked off in public once. True story. He was on a plane to New Mexico when all of the sudden the hydraulics went. The plane started spinning around, going out of control. So he decides it's all over and whips it out and starts beating it right there. So all the other passengers take a cue from him and they start whipping it out and beating like mad. So all the passengers are beating off, plummeting to their certain doom, when all of the sudden, the hydraulics kick back in, and the plane rights itself. It lands safely and everyone puts their pieces or, whatever you know, away and deboard. Nobody mentions the phenomenon to anyone else.

[The audience is stunned speechless]

Gill: Well, did he cum, or what?

Brodie: Jesus Christ, man! There's just some things you don't talk about in public!

Brandi: Second suitor, if you were a comic book character, what character would you be?

Brodie: [Impressed] Wow, that's a great question. A tough one, though; what does one gauge his response on? Physical prowess? Keen deductive skills? The ability to banter well with super villains?

Brandi: [Figuring out who he is] How's your comic book collection, Brodie?

Gill Hicks: Well, uh, first I'd take you shopping to stores you wanna shop in, and then we'd do a little lunch, probably at the Cheese Haus, followed by some golfing. And then at night, we'd take in an opera, probably Die Fledermaus, and then I'd follow it up with a drive to a secluded beach where I'd pop on the radio and we could slow-dance 'til the sun came up.

Brodie: That was the biggest load of crap I've ever heard! I mean, look at you. You're the kind of guy who would beg for sex. And I should know, we can smell our own.

Brandi: Suitor Number Three, is your kiss like a soft breeze, a firm handshake, or a jackhammer?

Gill: Definitely a jackhammer. I'm in there with some pressure, and when I'm done you're not the same as before. You're changed.

Brodie: Where do you come up with this shit?! That is the cheesiest response to an honest question I've ever heard! I saw you kiss and it wasn't even anything like that!

Gill: Who the hell did you see me kiss?

Brodie: Some dude backstage. I don't know who he was, but he seemed unimpressed.

Gill: I didn't kiss any guy backstage. I swear! I'm not gay.

Brodie: Hey, suitor-ette, this guy's a homo-phobe! You heard how repulsed he sounded! Is this the kind of guy you wanna spend a vacation with, this hate-monger?

Gill: I don't hate gay people!

Brodie: So you love them?

Gill: Yes! I mean, no.

Brodie: Textbook closet case. Self-loather. Can't be comfortable with his own sexuality.

T.S.: How easily do you quit? Say you wind up with one of us?

Brodie: Hopefully not Rush Limbaugh over here.

Gill Hicks: Oh, now, I'm not like Rush Limbaugh.

Brodie: Why not? Because he's fat? Now you have something against fat people, too?

Brodie: Ladies and gentlemen, this tall drink of water headed my way is a pillar of the shopping community who informed me earlier today of a nefarious plan of his to screw my girlfriend in an extremely uncomfortable place.

Gill: What, like the back of a Volkswagen?

[the videotape of Shannon having sex with Tricia is playing on the big screen, with cheesy 70s porno music in background]